Fueled by the sudden injection of oxygen, sticky red blood cells energize and begin to mobilize.

“Uhhhhhhhhh … huuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

“Uhhhhhhhhh … huuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

“Uhhhhhhhhh … huuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

Zzzzttt! Zzzzttt!

Alpha waves replace Omega, forcing the submerged dreamer up from the depths. The vegetative state is thawed in an erratic tidal change of forced neurological activity. Nerve endings direct gradually quickening impulses across miles of abandoned highways. Muscles twitch involuntarily—everything except the right arm.

The strain is too much for the reviving heart, effecting cardiac arrest.

Electricity shuts down the disgruntled organ. Sixty seconds pass before the needle stabs it again, the elixir of adrenaline rebooting the heart so that it can maintain a steady cadence.

“Uhhhhhhh … huuuuuuuuu.”

“Uhhhhh … huuuuuuu.”

“Uhhh … huuuuu.”

Erratic breathing becomes self-sustained.

*   *   *

The dreamer opens his eyes. Shadows dance, the mind remains disconnected.

A suffocating weight crushes his chest, cutting off his air supply. Like a trapped animal, he lashes out with his left arm, his mind stuck in a primordial gear that lacks cognizance or reason or complex thought.

With a grunt, he heaves the object off the splintered cryogenic pod, sending the corroded spiral staircase crashing to the floor.

The primordial response has left him sitting up awkwardly. His lower torso is still concealed in the pooled remains of the draining steel coffin, his mind—void of reality or memory upon which to anchor his thoughts, remains a blank canvas.

He is primordial man.

The sudden rush of blood to his brain is too much and he faints.

*   *   *

Pain beckons.

He reopens his eyes.

Buzzing sounds swirl in the predawn grayness. He stares, mindless, at a hole in the tilting sky that leads to a dark forest.

Manna has fallen from heaven, landing on his stomach. Startled, he reaches for it—his left arm brushing the two emptied hypodermic needles still protruding from the left side of his chest. He stares at them—an inquisitive Neanderthal—then brutally yanks the sharp objects from his heart and doubles over in agony.

He locates the rotted apple that had fallen from the hole in the sky and shoves it into his mouth, half chewing, half swallowing.

His blood sugar spikes.

His insides quiver.

Sitting up, he pukes the morsel of fruit across the puddle of muck.

Bees attack the vomited meal. A few sting him.

He watches in horror as the swarm grows more aggressive, forcing him to flee. He drags himself out of the fractured cryogenic pod like a wounded animal, collapsing on all fours onto a deck slanted forty degrees.

The bees organize their attack.

Crying out, he stumbles past the rusted coil of steel steps and slides out of the tilted chamber into the hallway.

The air is cold in this new environment.

The bees circle, then return to their tropical domain, preferring the warmth.